All Sins Are Attempts
by MGemy
Summary: Kurt and Blaine want to take their relationship further. But Blaine has a...little secret.


A/N: This is the fic that I filled over at the GKM! The prompter wanted Kurt and Blaine's first time, with Blaine being nervous about having what _he_ thinks is a small penis, but it's actually average, he was just basing it on porn. So I set them back in Dalton and away I went. It was originally on the GKM, and then on Tumblr, but I'm posting it here now by request.

I would like to profusely thank a friend of mine (who wishes to remain anonymous) for providing me with much intel on the inner workings of a man with an average penis. Not only did he give me this insight, but he also whipped out his junk and gave me a peek, and it is on his (beautiful) penis that Blaine's is based—around 5.5-6 inches in length.

Title is from a quote by Simone Weil.

**Warnings:** (There are listed purely for those seriously triggered-the story really isn't that angsty) Self-esteem issues, some body dysmorphia, verbal (internal) self-abuse, non-graphic mentions of vomiting, unrealistic expectations of pornography, top!Blaine for those concerned, kinks are as follows: dirty talk, masturbation, frottage, blowjobs, fingering, anal sex, barebacking, overstimulation, blink-and-you-miss-it comeplay, mild voyeurism. I think that's it.

* * *

"I think we need to cool down."

Blaine pulls back from Kurt, shifting to sit on the side of the bed rather than staying reclined next to Kurt, putting a little space between them to catch his breath. They've been kissing for nearly half an hour by the clock, and not only are Blaine's lips sore, but it's been getting increasingly difficult to keep their hips apart, especially when Kurt keeps trying to press them together.

"No—what—Blaine, why?" Kurt stammers, sitting up and basically chasing Blaine down the bed.

Blaine stares, momentarily distracted by the sheen of saliva left on Kurt's lips. He blinks the image away, conscious of the fact that he wants to calm down, not get excited.

"I just—we were getting pretty…_heated,_" Blaine replies, tilting his head down just enough to get his point across. "And…I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Blaine doesn't mention his own discomfort. After all, there's no need just yet—Kurt made himself very clear before they got together, and hasn't mentioned wanting to go further just yet. Blaine is safe for a little while longer, at least.

"Am I not—_sexy?_To you?"

"No, no, God, Kurt, you're so sexy," Blaine instantly assures, sliding back up the bed to sit next to Kurt, reaching out to brush his hand down Kurt's arm. "That's kind of the problem. I don't want things to get out of hand."

"But…would that be so bad?" Kurt asks, lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug. "I mean…we're together now, and I'm…open to finding out what comes next."

Blaine is torn between enjoying the sudden rush of blood south and losing himself in the cold feeling of fear thrumming through his recently vacated veins.

"I have homework," he blurts, the fear winning over as he stands up from the bed abruptly.

"Oh," Kurt says, his voice shaky. "I mean…okay."

He looks dejected, and Blaine feels shame coiling in his chest. He leans over and plants a kiss on Kurt's lips, gentle and chaste.

"I really do have homework," he says, caressing Kurt's neck gently. "But I promise we'll talk about this tomorrow? We'll get coffee?"

Kurt sighs and nods, attempting a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Okay."

Blaine picks his things up and leaves, smiling warmly at Kurt. But the smile falls from his face as he trudges back to his room, his bag feeling heavy with the homework that is in no dire need of being done tonight.

He drops the bag to the side when he gets to his room with no intention of picking it up until he leaves the next day. Instead, he kicks off his shoes, hangs his jacket, and loosens his tie, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. As he sits down at his computer, he rolls up his sleeves and unbuttons the first couple of buttons.

As the computer boots up, he unbuckles his belt.

Blaine is fairly careful when it comes to porn. He only goes on websites he trusts not to give his computer viruses. He never clicks on links, he never enters personal information. He even turns on the privacy option for his browser so he doesn't develop a lengthy, shameful history for anyone to peruse.

But he's got a couple of favorite pages that he goes back to like old friends. He knows just the search words to get his favorites. He knows the keywords to the stuff that turns him on. It doesn't take long for him to have a video up and running, the sound low enough that it doesn't carry much beyond the desk.

He likes this porn because it's so realistic. The men in it kiss, they touch, they smile at each other. They seem to really enjoy what's going on, their moans don't seem fake and they actually show the process of getting from making out to blowjobs to fingering to penetration. Blaine tried the normal research, but he couldn't quite _imagine_ it. Reading an instruction manual on anal sex isn't quite the same as seeing two guys actually doing it together. And yeah, he had to search through a lot of _Hot Stud Fucks Hairy Cabana Boy_ before finding something a little less…_porny._But he found it, and he's relied on it for a couple of years now.

Blaine stares at the screen as the two men kiss passionately, and he smiles. Kurt seems to like what he's learned about kissing, anyway—the face grabbing, the movement of the head, the way he nips Kurt's bottom lip between his own. It's all here—it's all worked so far. Now Kurt wants to go to the next step—so Blaine leans forward and pays special attention when they start removing clothing.

Blaine lifts his hips and pushes down his pants, kicking them off and letting them fall under the desk as he settles back, palming himself over his briefs as he watches the men cupping each other, rubbing teasingly as they continue to kiss heatedly.

When they finally strip entirely, revealing themselves entirely to each other and the camera, Blaine reaches inside his underwear, gripping himself tightly. And for an instant, he almost loses it.

Both the men on screen are bigger than he is. By at least several inches. Blaine feels inadequate, and for a second, he almost loses his erection, his already negligible size shrinking slightly in his hand. But then he closes his eyes and imagines.

It's Kurt's hand on him, now. It's Kurt's moans in his ear. And instead of the tic-tac he's got in his pants, his cock is perfect—long and thick and veined, just like on his computer screen. He hardens instantly, and he opens his eyes, stroking himself hard and fast as the larger of the two men on screen fingers his partner, stretching him fast and hard.

Is this what Kurt's going to want? Blaine doesn't think it's Kurt's style to just dive right in—he'll want to take his time, work up to the big moment. He'll want the tender touches, the sweet kisses that turn dirty the lower they go. God, Blaine can't _wait_ until Kurt's ready to use his mouth on him—those lips are so beautiful, and they'd look _so_ good stretched around a cock.

And just like that, the pressure coils low in Blaine's belly, his balls drawing up. He closes his eyes again and imagines Kurt sinking down in front of him, unbuttoning Blaine's pants for the first time, his eyes wide as he takes in what's revealed. He imagines Kurt having to stretch his lips wide to take Blaine in. He'd make the prettiest sounds, high gasps and whimpers as he swallowed Blaine down, choking just a little bit when he tried to go deep. Blaine fucks up into his fist, hips pistoning desperately as the image changes, and instead he's behind Kurt, his boyfriend bent over the desk, and Blaine's pulling out the four fingers he'd need to get him ready and he's sinking into him, stretching him wide as he can go as Kurt wails and begs and—

Blaine comes with a gasp, head thrown back and stomach muscles clenching sporadically with his final thrusts. He settles down, his hand resting sticky on his now-soft cock, feeling how small it is and regretting.

Is Kurt going to want this, when he finally sees? Sooner or later, he's going to have to find out, and as far as Blaine can see, it's going to be sooner. Kurt wants to go further _now_. Is he going to be in love with Blaine anymore, when he finds out? Will he want someone else, someone who can fulfill him, who can _fill_him more completely?

He's going to have to tell Kurt. Tomorrow, over their coffee. He'll just get it over with, and hope for the best. After all, Kurt trusted him enough to be willing to share his body—Blaine could only do the same in return.

In the meantime, he wipes his hand off, shoves off the soiled underwear, and closes out the porn before heading to Google and typing in _enhancement surgery._

A boy can dream.

—

The next day, Kurt grabs him right after Warbler practice, lacing their arms together as he guides them to the car. They get in and speed off to the Lima Bean, and it's like nothing ever happened. They dissect the Warbler practice, they chat about classes, they sing along with the radio. It's all fine.

It stays fine until they get to the Lima Bean and get their coffees. Then, as soon as they're sitting down next to each other in the corner, Kurt looks around carefully and leans closer to Blaine.

"So I've been thinking," he starts, and Blaine can see he's trying really hard. His body is tilted toward Blaine, his legs crossed in his direction and his face turned toward him—but his shoulders are turned away and his head is tilted to the side. He's stiff and nervous and trying to hide it.

"What have you been thinking?" Blaine prompts, trying to keep his voice even.

"I think we should discuss just what we're ready for, physically, and what we're comfortable doing in the future. Lay down some ground work, so we don't overstep or miscommunicate."

"That sounds reasonable," Blaine agrees, sipping his coffee and waiting to see what Kurt says before he figures out what _he's_going to say.

"So…I'll go first," Kurt says. "Like I told you last night, I want…more. And while I would like to take some time and work our way up to the big stuff—I'm ready for everything with you, Blaine. I want to do everything with you. But I totally understand if you're not ready, and I won't push you. I realize last night I was a little…_forward_, but it won't happen again. We'll go at your pace. I'm sorry for assuming I knew what you wanted. And I might still be assuming, for all I know, I mean, I don't even know if you want these things with me or if I'm just—"

Blaine stares for a minute before he realizes what Kurt meant. He quickly reaches across and grabs Kurt's hand.

"Kurt, that's not it at all," he says, stroking Kurt's knuckles with his thumb. "I really meant it when I said that I find you sexy. I want…all that, with you. And I'm ready for it, I just…"

Blaine sighs and looks around. It's not crowded—only a couple other customers are sitting around, and while none of them are near, Blaine doesn't feel comfortable talking about this where they might be overheard. Hell, he's not comfortable talking about it _period_, but if he could make it go away he would've done it by now.

"Look, can we go somewhere more private?" he asks, shifting nervously in his seat. "I just…this is difficult for me to say, and I want to make sure I can just say it and not have to stop or get interrupted or something."

Kurt nods and stands, grabbing his coffee and letting Blaine lead the way back to the car. Blaine hops in the driver's seat and takes off, driving back to Dalton.

He parks in the teachers' parking lot, knowing that pretty much no one is there for the weekend and that it's not easy to see from the rest of campus, unless someone were to lurk around the empty classrooms on that side of the main building. He parks in the back, next to a hedge, and turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt as Kurt does the same. He grips the steering wheel nervously and takes a deep, shuddering breath.

_You can do this, you can do this, he loves you, you can do this…_

"Blaine?" Kurt asks, and Blaine feels him run a hand down Blaine's arm. "What's wrong?"

"Kurt, I have something to tell you," Blaine says, "about me. Something that…I'm not proud of. And I really don't want it to affect our relationship, because I really care about you and I want us to be together, and I'm just scared of what you'll think when you find out—"

"Blaine," Kurt interrupts, shifting in his seat so that he's facing Blaine, looking him earnestly in the eyes, "no matter what you say, I'll still love you, okay? I promise."

Kurt holds out his hands for Blaine's and Blaine slips them together, clasping their fingers together.

"No matter what?"

"No matter what. Unless you tell me you like killing babies or wearing Abercrombie."

Blaine laughs, ducking his head. He turns and looks up at Kurt, at the self-satisfied smirk on his face, at his beautiful eyes staring lovingly back at him, waiting and understanding and so, so sweet. His perfect boyfriend.

"I love you so much."

"I love you, too," Kurt says, petting Blaine's hands in his own. "Now…tell me what's got you so worked up."

How should he say this? What does one say when explaining that they are lacking the proper size in their genitalia? Saying it like that sounds weird and pedantic, but everything he comes up with either sounds like that or sounds way too obscene or juvenile. Why didn't he plan this out ahead of time?

"Blaine?"

"I have a tiny dick," he blurts out, and immediately he pulls his hands back and covers his face with them, feeling the burning of his cheeks. "Oh my god, I did not mean to say that like that, oh my god."

He continues to hide in his hands, fighting off actual tears as he waits for Kurt to say something, to tell him it's over or that he can wait until Blaine's old enough to get plastic surgery, or _oh god, what if he wants to just leave and I'm sitting here holding him back oh god please don't leave—_

"Is that all?"

Blaine looks up, hands falling away as he turns and stares at his boyfriend incredulously.

"What?"

"Is that the problem?" Kurt asks again, looking at him bluntly. "You're afraid I'll leave you because you're…not…endowed?"

"I don't think you understand, Kurt," Blaine insists, "it's bad. I don't…I don't think you realize—"

"Would you be willing to show me?"

Blaine's eyebrows strain for his hairline, his eyes and mouth both wide open.

"You—you want to _see_it—"

"Yes," Kurt says simply. "I want to do other things, too, but not until you're comfortable."

Blaine feels the tears welling up in his eyes. Kurt knows his secret and he isn't running, he isn't disgusted or concerned, and Blaine can't help himself.

"I love you so much," he says, and he lunges over the center console and claims Kurt's mouth fiercely with his own.

The kiss escalates quickly. Blaine is so relieved that Kurt isn't running away yet and Kurt must be relieved that Blaine isn't a serial axe murderer and they love each other and _everything is going to be okay_so Blaine leans over the console further, ignoring how it digs into his ribs, and reaches over to thread his hands into Kurt's hair, deepening the kiss. After a moment, though, Kurt pulls back.

"I have an idea," he says, panting through kiss-reddened lips, his cheeks flushed.

"What?"

He smiles mischievously.

"Get in the back seat."

Blaine can't help but feel a bit of trepidation as he slides back into the car, this time in the back seat, watching as Kurt does the same thing on the other side of the car. It's not ideal, revealing himself in a parking lot, but he knows that a lot of the boys haven't gone home for the weekend and he wouldn't put it past one of the Warblers to knock on one of their doors before they left. This is the safest place.

Blaine still doesn't feel safe, though, even with Kurt's apparent dismissal of his problem as a problem. Not because someone could come across them—they'll be able to see anyone coming before someone could see them—but because he is still so unsure of himself.

Kurt could be fine with his miniscule pecker in theory—but once he sees it, there is no going back. What if he laughs? What if he changes his mind and wants to vomit? Oh, God, what if he _does_vomit, what if he throws up all over Blaine and then he'll never want to look at him again—

"Stop thinking so loud," Kurt says. "I promised you I was fine with this, and I am."

Blaine nods, but his hands are trembling, and Kurt can obviously feel it as he pulls Blaine closer.

"I'm not going to make you show me today," he says, and Blaine lets out a gust of shuddery breath, completely caught off guard by how relieved he is by that.

"That's good," he says, "because I don't know if I'm ready for you to see yet."

"And that's perfectly fine," Kurt assures, stroking Blaine everywhere he can reach—arms, shoulders, back, neck, chest. His touches are reassuring, sweet, and they're giving Blaine confidence. Kurt still wants to touch him, he's not just saying things, he really does…

"So why are we in the back seat?" Blaine asks, finally relaxing under Kurt's ministrations. "I kind of thought we were coming back here so I could whip it out."

Kurt giggles briefly before fixing Blaine with a condescending glare.

"I don't know, Blaine, why would I get into the roomy back seat of a car out of sight from the world with my hot, sexy boyfriend who was just kissing me like our lives depended on it?"

Blaine finds himself staring at Kurt's mouth, but he isn't going to let it go that easily—Kurt would get bored with him if he let him win all the time, after all.

"I believe you said you had an idea. Or was making out the idea?"

"Sort of," Kurt hedges, smiling up at Blaine in a secretive way that makes Blaine want to open him up and learn _everything_. "Do you trust me?"

Blaine sighs and shakes his head disbelievingly. "Of course I trust you."

"Good," Kurt replies. "Then trust me."

He leans in and kisses Blaine, wrapping his arms tightly around Blaine's neck. After only a moment, though, he starts to tug, leaning himself back and pulling Blaine over him with his arms, drawing Blaine's top lip into his mouth and running his tongue across it lightly as he goes.

Blaine moans, gladly tumbling down with Kurt, falling into a well-known position as they slide their tongues together—Blaine bracketing Kurt's head with his hands, leaning down to kiss him as he kneels above Kurt, just out of reach of any accidental humping.

But this time, Kurt runs his hands down Blaine's back, fingers digging into the straining muscles. Blaine can barely feel it through the blazer, but then Kurt reaches into the blazer and starts pushing it off. Blaine quickly leans up and takes it off, throwing it to the floor of the car. Kurt sits up, propping himself on the door, and guides Blaine's hands to his hips, just slipping the tips of his fingers underneath the hem of his sweater.

"Do you have anything against touching _above_the belt?" Kurt asks carefully, and Blaine grins and shakes his head.

"Not at all."

He lifts Kurt's sweater over his head and it joins the blazer as they fall back together, hands scrabbling to get their button-ups untucked so they can reach beneath. When they finally manage it, they stop kissing, taking a moment to enjoy the new feeling of skin and bone and muscle and plenty of room to explore.

Their hands continue to roam as they kiss again, sloppy this time and a little off-kilter, all tongues and teeth and Blaine is fighting against lowering his hips to Kurt's. It only gets harder when Kurt's hands find his lower back, pressing into the flesh firmly and with clear intent. When Blaine fights against it, Kurt lets out a desperate whine.

"Come on, Blaine," he whispers as Blaine licks his way down Kurt's neck, sucking and nibbling at the fair skin. "I want you to."

It would be easy. It would be _so_easy. But no matter how many times he tells his hips to lower, they won't. It's like there's a block and Blaine can't move past it. He pulls back with a frustrated sigh, head hanging and turning away from Kurt so that he can't see the disappointment on Blaine's face.

"No, no, hey, it's okay," Kurt says, bringing his hands out from under Blaine's shirt and cupping his face instead. "We don't have to go further today."

"I want to, though," Blaine protests. "I just…just _can't._"

"Because you don't want me to feel you."

"I don't want you to feel _nothing_, actually."

Kurt scowls up at him like he's going to argue, but after a second his eyes widen and he smiles tentatively.

"I have an idea."

Blaine huffs out a breath and looks up at his boyfriend imploringly.

"Here," Kurt continues, reaching down and grabbing Blaine's blazer. "We'll use this."

"Um…"

"Look," Kurt says, shoving it in a big bunch right in front of his crotch, which Blaine can't help but notice is bulging quite a bit. "Now I won't be able to feel anything but your weight."

Blaine stares for a minute before looking back up at Kurt, and he can feel his eyes shining.

"Do you think it'll work?"

Kurt shrugs.

"We won't know until we try, Blaine."

Blaine nods, biting his lip nervously. There's still a chance Kurt will be able to tell, but if Blaine doesn't take this chance they'll be going nowhere fast.

"Okay."

He shifts so he's kneeling in between Kurt's legs, his long thighs stretching on either side of Blaine's hips as he lowers down, propping himself up with his hands as best as he can. Finally, finally, he settles completely, and he's pressed against the blazer and against _Kurt_, and the pressure is beautiful. He rocks experimentally and Kurt hisses, throwing his head back.

"Oh, that feels good," he breathes out, and Blaine leans in and attacks his neck, biting and sucking at it furiously, pressing down against Kurt rhythmically.

The blazer idea is working. He can feel Kurt, he can feel the hardness through several layers of fabric, but it's muted, and he's not entirely sure just how big _Kurt_ is, so Kurt won't be able to feel anything specific from him either. It's just pressure and friction and it's _amazing_to feel Kurt writhing under him, hands scrabbling at Blaine's lower back before daring to slip lower, boldly cupping Blaine's ass in his palms.

Blaine gasps and surges up, thrusting hard against Kurt and drawing moans out of both of them as he shoves his tongue into Kurt's mouth, plunging it in time with his hips. Kurt seems to approve by the way he's panting and moaning and lifting up to meet Blaine's every move.

"Oh, God, Blaine, you feel so good," Kurt groans, throwing his head back against the window. Blaine leans his face against Kurt's neck, breathing heavily as he fights off the urge to come. "You feel _so_good."

"You do too, baby," Blaine whines, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist and holding him close. He slows down the movement of his hips, focusing on the dig of Kurt's fingertips into the muscle of his ass instead of the sweet pressure on his groin.

"I need you to know something," Kurt says, his voice broken and choppy as he struggles up against Blaine. "Can I tell you?"

"Anything," Blaine whispers.

"I think about you inside me," Kurt admits, and Blaine feels a surge down through his body that lands directly in his cock. "And I want it—I want it so bad, Blaine. Please, please tell me you want it too."

Blaine gasps and he's so, _so_ close. He picks up the pace again, unable to fight it any longer, mouthing at Kurt's pulse as he drives harder against Kurt, and he can feel the outline of his cock, he can feel Kurt, it's _so incredible._

"I don't care how big you are," Kurt continues, his voice higher and louder and Blaine can _feel_that he's close, too. "I don't care, Blaine, I just want you to fuck me—"

Blaine cries out, hips stuttering to a halt as he comes, spilling all over in the inside of underwear. As he starts to come down, he hears Kurt's high keening and feelings him thrashing, and he sucks gently on his throat as he settles, wrapping his arms tightly around Blaine's shoulders, kissing at his temple.

"Can I tell you something?" Blaine asks quietly, after their sweat has begun to cool and their breathing has returned to normal.

"Sure," Kurt replies.

Blaine pauses for a minute, gathering his courage, and says, "I'm scared to…to fuck you. I'm scared it won't feel good for you."

Kurt hums, and Blaine can feel the vibration where he's resting on top of him. "I don't think it'll be a problem. I mean…I couldn't feel how big you were, but I _could_sort of feel you…through the blazer."

Blaine lifts up, staring at Kurt anxiously.

"You felt me?"

All he can think is that he _needs_ to know _right now_what Kurt is thinking. Kurt smiles at him and tucks one of his curls back up onto his forehead from where it's fallen, humming happily at him.

"It was nice," Kurt says. "And I definitely felt you, so I think you should be big enough to be inside me."

Blaine shifts uncomfortable, grimacing. His pants are sticky, he's too hot, his shirt is sticking to his back sweat, and he's starting to feel cramped. And on top of it all, Kurt still wants to see him and wants him _inside_and Blaine's not even sure he'll be able to hit Kurt's prostate and he'll never feel how deep Blaine can go and he'll never feel stretched and—

"Blaine?"

"Can we take some time, still?" Blaine asks. "Just…I'm still not ready to…to show you."

Kurt nods, kissing him sweetly.

"We have all the time in the world," he says, before his eyes glint impishly and he smiles wide. "But we can still do this, right?"

Blaine laughs and nuzzles his nose against Kurt's.

"Right."

—

Sunday morning, Blaine wakes up well-rested—he'd taken Kurt on a date the previous night and it had ended in a similar manner to their coffee date on Friday, but with one of Dalton's thin pillows between them instead of the blazer. And Blaine had been surprised to find that it just wasn't the same, wasn't nearly as good. The pillow had provided the pressure he needed, and Kurt had done wonders from where he'd been straddling Blaine, but they hadn't been close enough. He hadn't been able to feel Kurt at all, and he was disappointed.

But now he's going to be spending another day with Kurt, and he couldn't be more excited about it, to be honest. Kurt has been wonderful and understanding and so, so sweet about his…issues. Blaine can't help but feel sorry that he isn't ready to go further himself yet, because he really wants Kurt to be able to—

And then it hits him. He doesn't _have_ to show Kurt anything if they go further. Only _Kurt_would technically have to be naked…

Blaine jumps up, rushes through his morning ritual, and runs out the door, heading for Kurt's room as fast as he can.

—

Kurt doesn't open his door right away when Blaine knocks, and when he does he's sort of disheveled, his hair sticking up in different direction, his eyes half-closed. He's not at all put together, and Blaine has never found him more beautiful.

"Blaine? What are you doing here so early?"

Blaine fidgets for a minute, nearly bouncing in place in his excitement and nerves. He hadn't really looked at the time when he'd run out, he'd been so eager to get to Kurt and give him this.

"I couldn't stay away," he says enthusiastically, slipping into Kurt's room and going in for a kiss. Kurt turns his head away at the last instant, and the kiss lands on his cheek.

"Morning breath, Blaine," he chastises, but he's smiling in a self-deprecating manner. He moves past Blaine gracefully, his shoulders just a little too high from the tension of being caught at less than perfect, and closes his bathroom door behind himself with one last playful look at Blaine.

A few minutes later, he emerges, still in his pajamas, but his face is washed and his teeth are brushed and his hair is fixed and swept back in his normal style. He walks imperiously to his dresser and then tosses a disdainful look over his shoulder at where Blaine is sitting on the end of the bed.

"And are you just going to watch me change?" he asks, just a little lilt of teasing in his voice that betrays his haughty mien.

"Actually," Blaine replies, standing up and stalking over to Kurt casually, who turns to look him up and down a little shakily, his smile open and happily suspicious, "I was kind of hoping to catch you on the in between."

"Really," Kurt deadpans, though the effect is lost with how breathy his voice has gone and how his chest is heaving just that little bit heavier and how his cheeks are flushed a pretty shade of pink.

"Really," Blaine corroborates as he easily invades Kurt's space, leaning up and slotting his mouth together with Kurt's in such a perfect way.

Kurt turns totally into Blaine's arms as they naturally ease into their familiar pattern of making out, faces tilted and hands roaming over backs and shoulders and slipping up to cup cheeks and necks. Even the way they moan and the way Blaine slips his tongue into Kurt's mouth are familiar, because Blaine doesn't want to startle Kurt with a new step forward so soon. He can't help but still feel a little apprehensive about it—after all, it wasn't _that_ long ago that Kurt was extoling the virtues of keeping it to fingertips, though of course Blaine's mind had immediately gone to all the ways fingertips could potentially bring someone (_Kurt_) apart. And while he is grateful for whatever changed Kurt's mind—he has a sneaking suspicion it's been a combination of hormones, heavy make out sessions, and informational pamphlets that Kurt had shyly hidden from him that have maybe made things a little less scary—he's still a little wary of crossing a line, even given Kurt's professed desire to take things all the way soon.

But he knows he has to move forward if he's going to do what he wants.

He turns them so Kurt's back is to the wall next to the dresser and presses him into it, delighting in the shocked moan that he gets to swallow from Kurt's lips before sinking his mouth down to nibble at Kurt's clavicle.

"Can I take this off?" he murmurs, tugging at the lapel of Kurt's silk pajama top. Kurt mumbles a quick, "mmhm," and Blaine eagerly gets to work on the buttons.

Every new inch of skin that comes into view is like a revelation to Blaine, and he can't help but kiss everything he can reach, a little sloppy but Kurt sounds _so_ turned on and Blaine thinks he must be doing _something_right, especially when he sucks a nipple into his mouth, running his tongue around it as it hardens.

"Oh!" Kurt yelps, his back arching into Blaine. Blaine chuckles and flicks his tongue at its partner, aiming to get Kurt writhing and desperate before he reaches his goal. So far, he's doing well, if Kurt's pants and clutching hands are any indication.

"You too," Kurt breathes after Blaine stands up straight to kiss Kurt again, his wet, red lips too tempting to resist. "Your shirt. Please?"

Blaine grins, happy to be well on his way to turning Kurt into a puddle of goo, and immediately unbuttons the sweater he'd thrown on this morning, tossing it to the ground where it is shortly followed by the polo he'd worn underneath. When he turns back to Kurt, it's to have his torso explored with pale hands and long fingers, and Kurt's eyes are wide and filled with wonder, his mouth hanging a little open as he takes in Blaine's rippled abs, hardened by long hours of boxing.

"Please tell me that didn't just happen naturally and you had to work for it," Kurt asks breathlessly. "Because if you got that just from jumping on furniture the world is a cruel, cruel place."

Blaine laughs and leans in to bite Kurt's neck playfully.

"I work _very_hard," he says. "Now…can I give you your gift?"

Kurt's eyebrows shoot up and he smiles delightedly and a little doubtfully.

"You got me a present?" he asks, as though it's never happened before. _It hasn't,_ Blaine reminds himself, _at least not from a guy._

Blaine hurriedly commits to memory the fact that he has to buy Kurt flowers or something before rubbing his nose against Kurt's sweetly. He knows how much Kurt likes the romance of that.

"Sort of," he says, "but I didn't buy it. I want to give it to you in return for being so understanding about my…reluctance."

"Okay," Kurt says with a question, a prompt in his tone. "Blaine, you do know you don't have to get me anything for that—I would wait for you anyway."

"I know that, which is why I was thinking this morning," Blaine continues, slowly sinking down, "about how you still want to go further. I also want to go further. And I came to the conclusion that we still can. I can still do something…for _you_."

As he says that, his knees hit the floor, and Kurt stares down at him like he's never seen him before. Blaine smiles up at him adoringly and tucks his fingertips into the waistband of Kurt's pants.

"May I?"

Kurt nods emphatically, apparently at a loss for words. Blaine carefully slips the pants down, conscious of the bulge it slips over and leaves at eye level, beneath a pair of dark blue briefs.

"You are so beautiful," Blaine breathes, leaning in and planting a kiss on the top of one of Kurt's thighs, pulling the pants down to Kurt's ankles and tugging them out as Kurt steps out of them. He tosses them aside and places his hands on Kurt's ankles as he continues to land little kisses all over Kurt's thighs, drawing them up the outside slowly, his fingertips just grazing the skin beneath a light dusting of hair.

_He was right about the fingertips,_Blaine thinks, feeling a little silly about it but probably thinking the same thing Kurt is, judging by how his muscles are twitching, like he's fighting against the urge to move. Blaine leans up a little and sucks a kiss into the skin just below his bellybutton and just above the band of the briefs.

His chin almost bumps the shape of his cock straining against the briefs, and Blaine takes a moment to look at it. Kurt's bigger than he is—not that he's surprised, what would be the odds of two people with ridiculously tiny penises falling in love?—but Blaine finds it sends a thrill down his spine. If it doesn't work out with him topping, maybe Kurt would be okay with switching and letting Blaine take everything _he_ has. Kurt doesn't look as big as the men in the porn, but he's a lot bigger than Blaine; he would be able to fill someone up so _beautifully…_

"And these?" he asks finally, skimming his hands up the front of Kurt's thighs now and slipping his fingers up under the bands of the legs, stroking the soft skin where his thigh and groin meet. Kurt trembles and nods again, whimpering softly.

Kurt is even more glorious when his briefs are removed. Blaine has to sit back and stare for just a second—he's long-limbed and lean and pale and so sexy that Blaine can barely breathe. And his cock is just how Blaine imagined and wished his own could be; long and thick, hanging just lower than perpendicular to his body with the weight. Blaine's own points more up, and is certainly a couple inches shorter and not as wide. It also doesn't have the winding of a vein like that going up the underside, which Blaine discovers when he takes Kurt in hand and starts to stroke.

"O-oh," Kurt stutters out, hands slapping back against the wall, hips arching out toward Blaine. Blaine looks up at him and finds him blinking rapidly, his mouth hanging open. "God, _Blaine_."

Kurt's moans go straight to Blaine's own dick, and he spreads his legs a little to relieve the pressure as he leans in and drags his tongue along Kurt's.

Kurt lets out a high whine, and Blaine is encouraged. He knows how to do this—he's seen it a million times. The key is getting Kurt in deep and being able to let him fuck his mouth freely. And how hard can it be? The men in the porn can take a cock much bigger than Kurt's, and a lot of them are smaller than him.

He licks his lips, opens his mouth, and carefully slips the tip of Kurt's cock into his mouth, sucking on it experimentally and getting ready for the stretch that he knows is coming. Kurt tastes slick and bitter as he leaks precome, and Blaine finds that he likes the flavor, strange as it is.

Kurt is straining in front of him, his hips quivering as he fights against plunging forward into Blaine's mouth. Blaine lifts his hands up to Kurt's hips, carefully slipping them to rest on the sides of his ass, and sinks further, taking Kurt in as deep as he can go.

He's disappointed when his throat starts fluttering with a few inches left at the base of Kurt's cock. Kurt isn't complaining, but he's feeling seriously inadequate—he can't do it right, he's not built right and he can't manage to make up for it, he's bad at sex, he's—

"Blaine," Kurt whispers, and Blaine feels a hand cupping his cheek. He pulls off and looks up at Kurt, his stomach sinking. "You don't have to take the whole thing. Not right now—it's our first time, what you were doing before felt amazing."

"But I should—"

"Should what?" Kurt interrupts, shaking his head and smiling kindly down at his sweet boyfriend. "This isn't a porno, Blaine."

Blaine stares up at him, unable to speak as that sinks into his skin and seeps down to his bones.

"Just do what feels good to you—I'm sure I'll love it."

Blaine huffs out a breath, and it's like a weight lifts from his chest. He immediately dives back in, circling a fist around the base and taking the tip of Kurt's cock back in his mouth, sucking and bobbing eagerly.

"Oh, that's good, baby," Kurt moans, threading his hands into Blaine's hair, not pushing or guiding, just feeling every movement of Blaine's head as he works him over, tongue and lips and hand all working in a messy tandem that's working _so well_if Kurt's increasing vocals are any indication.

And the noises he's making are working for Blaine, too. His erection, which had wilted when Kurt had stopped him, is back in full force, pushing against his zipper like it was desperate to escape. And if he doesn't relieve it soon, he is going to be in some pain.

He reaches down with his free hand, still giving Kurt the best blow job he can manage, and pops his button and draws down his zipper. He slips his hand inside his boxer briefs and grips his cock, moaning loudly at the sensation.

Kurt gasps at the vibrations and looks down, seeing Blaine's hand working himself over, and his hips start to move. Blaine's got a good grip on him, so he doesn't push too far in, but he's definitely fucking in and out of Blaine's lips, and Blaine lets him even as the fingers in his hair tighten and tug.

"Blaine, Blaine—oh, fuck, I'm—I'm gonna—"

Blaine just hums and sucks harder, desperately jerking himself off, trying to catch up with Kurt and come with him, but Kurt beats him to it—within moments, he's spilling hot and hard into Blaine's mouth with a sharp wail, and Blaine tastes it for a moment before pulling off and swallowing, licking up the bit that dripped onto his lips.

"Oh my god," Kurt says, looking down as Blaine releases him and doubles his efforts on his own cock, trying so hard to finish. He's right on the edge, but he can't manage to tip over.

"I'm sorry," Blaine grits out, "I'm trying."

Kurt sinks down in front of him, his movements loose and languid from his orgasm.

"Can you trust me again?"

Blaine looks up at him desperately, a little unsure, until he sees Kurt's eyes, and the love in them. He nods, almost sobbing in frustration.

"I love you," Kurt whispers, leaning in to kiss Blaine sweetly. Blaine's eyes drift shut, losing himself in the kiss—but it's still not enough.

Then he feels it. A pressure on the hand working furiously in his pants. He pulls back and stares down, and he sees Kurt's hand over his pants, pressing in and helping him stroke, and he's so close and Kurt's hand is _right there_…

"You feel so good, Blaine," Kurt whispers, nipping at his ear. "Come for me."

Blaine instantly cries out and comes harder than he can ever remember coming, his head swimming as his eyes clench shut through it. Kurt's hand works with him through the fabric until he pauses, unwilling to let go and let Kurt feel him directly. Kurt removes his hand and kisses him again, a light peck.

"How was that?" Kurt asks mildly, smirking a little bit and looking pleased with himself.

"Thank you," Blaine replies simply, smiling. He's still a little nervous about what Kurt felt and what he thinks, but he's feeling a little silly after coming and he's not freaking out as much as he probably will later.

Or now. Kurt rises and walks into the bathroom, returning a moment later with a wet washcloth for Blaine. Blaine grabs it and shifts uncomfortably, scared of cleaning up inside and scared to pull his hand out—basically, scared of everything, and a little ashamed. Kurt's walking around naked, his soft cock hanging beautifully over his balls, limp and smaller but Blaine knows what it looks like hard now and it's so much better than his—

"What are you thinking?" Kurt asks as he pulls his briefs back on. Blaine pulls his hand out of his pants, wiping it off on the washcloth and quickly doing up his pants and making plans to slip away and change as soon as he can.

Blaine shrugs, his voice clogging up in his throat. Kurt walks to him and wraps his hands around the back of Blaine's head, stroking through the hair on the back of his neck.

"You didn't _feel_small," Kurt mentions, in a voice that is probably supposed to sound offhand.

"You haven't seen it," Blaine says in a small voice. "I'm nothing, especially…"

Kurt tilts his head, locking eyes with Blaine and not letting go.

"Especially what?"

"Compared to you," Blaine blurts, his face flushing. "You're…you're perfect, and—"

"Do _not_ compare us," Kurt scolds. He runs one hand up and down Blaine's abs and shoots them a pointed look. "Do you know how beautiful you are, Blaine? I took one look at _this_ and wanted to curl up and hide. But then I saw how you were looking at _me_and I knew it didn't matter. Did it?"

Blaine shook his head. "Of course not, Kurt, you don't have to look like me to be beautiful—"

"Exactly," Kurt says triumphantly, grinning. "I don't _want_you to have my cock, Blaine. If I did, I'd just masturbate."

Blaine bursts out laughing, dropping his head to Kurt's shoulder. Kurt draws him in and giggles a little with him, wrapping his arms fully around Blaine's shoulders and laying kisses on his forehead.

"What can I do to make you see that I think you're perfect no matter what?" Kurt asks, and while Blaine can hear in his tone that it's rhetorical, he snorts anyway.

"I'm not perfect," he says, nuzzling Kurt's neck, reveling in the slight sheen of sweat that _he_made happen.

"Perfect to _me_," Kurt protests. "Isn't that what matters? That you're good for _me_?"

"I can't be, Kurt," Blaine says, and he feels tears welling up. He fights them back as best he can. "If you're with me you'll never be able to feel how you want to feel—you told me you wanted to have me inside you, and I just don't think that I'll be enough to—"

"I think you're seriously overestimating something here, Blaine," Kurt wryly. "Or underestimating…I'm not sure."

"Kurt—"

"I have another idea," Kurt says suddenly. "Do you—"

"Trust you?" Blaine finishes, laughing. "You should know I do by now. Especially after your last couple of ideas."

"Good," he replies. "Then I propose a date—Friday night? I'll have something special for us planned."

Blaine sighs and kisses his amazing boyfriend.

"Okay."

—

The week passes too slowly for Blaine. Sure, he and Kurt end up in one of their rooms pretty much every night under the pretense of studying, but in truth they end up repeating their previous activities to one extent or another. Usually they end up shoving the nearest soft object between their groins and rutting until they come, hands scrabbling over as much skin as they can quickly reveal, but Blaine has managed to strip Kurt completely down twice more since the first time on Sunday. He hasn't gotten around to taking even his pants off yet, but Kurt hasn't pushed for anything, so Blaine can only assume he's got a plan—he knows Kurt would never be satisfied just letting him do all the work, he'd want to reciprocate.

Blaine's still scared, despite all Kurt's assurances that what he's felt so far isn't a bother to him. Even if Kurt doesn't think he's too small—which he doubts, he's seen the porn a million times and he knows he's working with basically nothing—he still looks weird. He's out of proportion. He shouldn't have this stub sticking out between his legs. Hell, when it's soft it's not even big enough to hang; it just sticks out like two inches of tumor over his balls. And yeah, he grows a few inches when it gets hard and it looks a _little_ better, but still—it's not what it _should_be.

He's convinced Kurt won't be able to get off on him, and he's said as much. Every video he sees, the bottom is begging for the top to go deeper, to hit that perfect spot inside him. And he's seen men come from that alone—Kurt will never have that. And Blaine's biggest fear, aside from Kurt looking at him in disgust when he finally gets up the nerve to show him, is that he'll be fucking Kurt and Kurt will just go limp, unable to feel anything. Blaine can see it all in his head—he'll just be laying there, yawning and taking the little Blaine's able to give, and then _Blaine_ will go soft and prove himself _completely_incompetent and then he'll have to become celibate.

Maybe he can buy Kurt a toy until he can save enough money for enhancement surgery. It's not that expensive—he can take every cent he gets from working Six Flags and put it aside, it should be enough if he dips into his college fund a little. He's sure there's _someone_in New York who does that kind of surgery, and he's seen it on TV before, he's sure.

It's the best plan he's got. He'll let Kurt try whatever it is he wants to try on Friday, and he'll let Kurt see him either then or the next time they have some privacy. He'll just get it over with. And he'll have this backup plan, which he's sure is just going to be a _plan_ before long.

—

Friday does come eventually, and just before Warbler practice Kurt sidles up to him and slips a folded paper into his hand. He smiles, pecks Blaine's cheek, and without a word flounces into rehearsal and approaches the council table, speaking to Wes quietly. Blaine checks his watch—he's got a few minutes, so he slips down an empty hallway and leans against the wall, opening his note.

_My wonderful, sweet, sexy Blaine_, it says, _I want you to know that everything is set for our date tonight—and I'll expect you at my room immediately following Warbler rehearsal. You don't even have to change out of your uniform._

I'll be waiting.

Blaine stares at the last three words. _I'll be waiting_. How can Kurt be waiting if Blaine goes to his room right after rehearsal?

He tucks the note into his bag and ambles back to join the other Warblers. He slips in just as Wes was calling them to order, and he seats himself on the couch next to—

—to Nick.

Blaine looks around, but Kurt isn't in the room anymore, and then it hits him that the note was a distraction. Kurt must have gotten permission to skip and slipped out while Blaine was reading, and now Blaine has to sit through rehearsal just waiting for the moment when he can escape.

He barely listens to anything Wes says, and he knows he flubs more than a few notes when they finally got around to singing, but he is in a haze of battling lust and nerves. He knows something is going to happen tonight—whether they do what they've been doing all week, or whether Kurt has something really new planned (and Blaine suspected he does), he is going to be having some form of sex tonight. But he is also terrified, because he had vowed to himself that he would get over himself and finally let Kurt see him and—oh god—touch him. He is going to have Kurt's hand on his dick either tonight or very soon after, and that's done amazing things before in spite of all his misgivings, and that had still been through fabric and his own hand.

When rehearsal _finally_ends, just a little early when Wes declares them too distracted by the weekend to continue, Blaine picks up his bag and all but runs right to Kurt's room. When he reaches it, he knocks carefully and calls out softly, "Kurt?"

"It's open."

Blaine turns the knob, opens the door, and immediately freezes.

"I'd appreciate it if you got in here and shut the door before someone comes along, Blaine," Kurt says from where he lays on the bed, covered only by a tiny, tiny silk robe, warmly lit by several large candles spread about the room. He is reclining against the headboard casually, his long white legs crossed at the ankle and stretched before him. He's looking at Blaine with a coy smile, and only the way he fiddles with the tie on the robe betrays that he's nervous.

Blaine complies, slipping in and shutting the door behind him with a definitive _click._

"Come on," Kurt says, sitting up a little more, his knees bending before him as he pats the other side of the bed. "Take off your blazer and tie and come sit with me. I have something for us."

Blaine slips off the blazer, placing it over the back of Kurt's desk chair, and unties his tie with a smooth slip of fabric, laying it over the blazer carefully. For added measure, he kicks off his shoes and bends over to slip off his socks, well aware of where this is going. When he's finished, he moves around to the other side of the bed then, unbuttoning the sleeves of his button-up, and sits down facing Kurt, folding up one leg onto the bed while the other holds him steady on the ground. He feels the distinct need to ground himself—it's too surreal, with the candlelight shining off Kurt's perfect porcelain skin. He feels like he can't even speak, or it'll all disappear.

Kurt turns and opens the drawer of his bedside table, pulling out a small container of cheesecake and two plastic forks.

"I know it's not exactly the classiest way to eat cheesecake," Kurt jokes, smiling wryly at the forks, "but I figured I could sacrifice sophistication in favor of easy cleanup."

"That's a good idea," Blaine says, his voice a little rough when it comes out. Kurt bites his lip at him as he smiles shyly, opening the cheesecake and handing Blaine a fork.

They feed each other bites of the treat, giggling and trying deliberately to miss so they can kiss off the mess they make. There are little bits of strawberry on top, and those are Blaine's favorite part—he even plops one between his lips and presents it to Kurt that way, and they laugh when Kurt bites into it and the juice spills over their chins. Soon enough, though, the dessert is gone and Kurt casually throws everything in his garbage. Blaine sighs, completely relaxed as he holds Kurt's hand in his own, lifting it to his lips to kiss gently. It's been a perfect date so far.

"Are you ready for the next part of the surprise?" Kurt asks, and a little blaze shoots down through his stomach at how low and gravelly Kurt's voice sounds. Blaine licks his lips, and he knows his eyes must be widening comically as he stares at Kurt, who is looking up at him through his lashes, his lips parted just a little bit. Blaine nods, completely incapable of speaking as his body tingles and tightens in anticipation.

"Okay," Kurt whispers. "Go sit at the end of the bed, facing me."

Blaine complies, shifting to the foot of the bed and sits facing Kurt, who is slowly pulling at the ties of his robe, which whisper faintly as they slide apart.

"Oh, Kurt," Blaine whimpers, and Kurt holds his gaze as the robe falls apart and off Kurt's shoulders, slipping to lay around his elbows and hips. He's completely naked beneath, and Blaine can see him shiver as he's revealed completely. He's stunning—flushed and quivering with excitement, the smooth silk of the robe sliding against his skin as he slips it away from him and leans back against the headboard again, his legs falling just a little bit open as he relaxes, displaying his perfect cock standing proud from the thatch of hair on his groin. It's red and hard and dripping just a little bit, and Blaine feels his mouth water and his own groin tighten as he stiffens.

"I have something I want to show you," Kurt says, caressing himself as he speaks, his arms crossing to start at his shoulders, slipping down his arms, shifting to his chest and stomach and slowly falling down to his thighs. "Something I think you need to see."

Blaine just nods, watching Kurt take himself in hand, stroking himself languidly, his other hand dancing along his inner thigh.

"Before I continue," Kurt says, and Blaine's eyes snap back up to his face, watching the shivers of exhilaration flit across his features, "I have a question. And I want you to answer honestly and objectively, because what you say will be very important."

Blaine nods again, wiping his sweaty hands on his slacks and licking his lips, feeling like he's about to explode out of his skin. Kurt smiles at him.

"Are you bigger than a finger?"

Blaine stares, and Kurt raises an inquisitive eyebrow at him.

"Blaine?"

"Uhm…yes," he stammers, his eyes locked on the hand that is trailing up and down Kurt's long thigh, reaching higher and higher before drawing away, teasing both of them. "I'm…I'm bigger than a finger."

"Then we're not going to have a problem," Kurt breathes, and his hand is away from his thigh and reaching into his bedside table, and Blaine almost comes right then and there—he is holding a simple bottle of lubricant, and suddenly the idea of what Kurt might be about to do comes to him.

"Kurt, are you—"

"Shh. Just…just watch."

Kurt is obviously nervous, but he isn't letting it get to him by the way he pops the cap and pours the slick lube along the index finger of the hand not currently circled around the base of his cock.

"I've done this…once before," Kurt admits, spreading his legs wide and shuffling to lie further down, revealing just a hint of pink pucker. Blaine can't take his eyes off of it, and he can't seem to catch his breath.

"Oh my god," he says, and that seems to give Kurt a surge of confidence.

"I want you to see just how…just what this does to me."

Kurt relaxes back and circles the tip of his finger around his sweet little hole, his mouth falling open and his eyes dropping half-shut. Blaine is paralyzed—everything is frozen but his eyes, which follow Kurt's every movement as though magnetized, and his chest, which heaves with every shaky breath he's struggling to take.

Kurt gasps and suddenly, his finger is sinking into him, steadily disappearing between his cheeks until his palm and wrist are right against his balls, his entire finger completely out of view.

"Oh, Kurt," Blaine whines, fidgeting and pressing the heel of his hand into his crotch, fighting off the ache in his balls that begs him to find a way to come.

"I think about you," Kurt says, drawing the finger out slowly until just the tip is inside, then pushing it all the way back in, again and again. "I think about—about—_ah!_About your cock. Inside me."

He tilts his finger a few times, until he suddenly gasps and speeds up, holding the angle. His other hand squeezes the base of his cock unsteadily, the muscles in his forearm twitching. He starts panting loudly, every breath pushed out in a faint _ah, ah, ah! _

"You feel so good, Blaine."

Kurt tenses, his finger shoving into his hole hard, over and over and over, fast and shallow, his forehead shining with sweat. Blaine bites his lip and moans, gripping his cock through his pants tight, his hips surging up and seeking any kind of relief. Every inch of him wants to leap forward and _feel_ Kurt, replace those long fingers with his own, tear him apart and build him up with his lips and tongue and hands and _cock_—

"Oh my god, oh my god—fuck, fuck, _Blaine_!"

Kurt's back arches and he comes, from just one fucking finger, only stroking himself through it as white stripes start spurting out of him and splashing up his stomach and chest, glistening on his skin in the candlelight. He collapses back, his hips straining just a little bit as he pulls out his finger and lays his hand limp against his thigh, his eyes heavy as he looks over at where Blaine is sitting, his eyes wide and his lips red from his own teeth.

"I want you so bad, Blaine," he says after a moment, one hand stroking his hips and thighs while the other lifts up to trail his fingers through the spectacular amount of come streaking his torso. "Want to see you and suck you and feel you inside me, _please—_"

Blaine loses it. He surges up the bed, leaning over Kurt and kissing him roughly. Kurt meets him eagerly, ripping Blaine's shirt open and off his shoulders, ignoring the buttons flying off. Blaine shakes the sleeves off and throws the shirt off the bed, breaking away from Kurt's mouth to lick the come off of him, swallowing it down before slipping his tongue between Kurt's lips, letting him taste the remnants. They kiss passionately, fusing together and exploring each other's mouths, familiar territory that needs to be rediscovered.

Blaine can feel that Kurt is hard again, the tip of his cock just bumping against Blaine's thigh where he's kneeling between Kurt's legs, keeping his hips away out of habit. He pulls back, smiling at the wet, flushed look of Kurt's lips.

"Blaine?"

And he knows it's time.

Blaine kneels up, settling back on his heels and breathing deeply. There's still a cold pit in his stomach, but Kurt just _proved_ to him that Blaine has more than what he needs. He can do this, _he can do this_. Kurt loves him, he'll love him no matter what.

He shuffles off the bed, standing and facing Kurt shakily. He undoes his belt, lets it hang, and unbuttons his pants. When his fingers reach his zipper, he freezes.

_But it still looks weird…_

But he shouldn't have to settle for this little when he could have more…

But I won't be able to do it right…

But I'm not good enough—

Blaine looks at Kurt, who smiles up at him like he's absolutely _everything…_

But he loves me.

Blaine slams his eyes shut, throws down the zipper, and, before he can convince himself not to, hooks his fingers into his pants and underwear and shoves them down.

Blaine waits with his eyes shut, his hands trembling at his sides. He doesn't know what to do with them—he imagines himself, ridiculously, presenting his penis to Kurt like a prize, _let's see what you've won!_ The idea should be funny, but all he can think is that if Kurt had to choose and he picked that curtain, his triumphant smile would fall in disappointment. And Blaine can't, _can't_open his eyes. He can't look at it. He'll give Kurt a moment to hide the disillusionment, let him have the time to prepare to pretend that Blaine is still perfect, and then—

"God, _Blaine_."

Blaine's eyes snap open.

Kurt is reclined on his side, his upper half leaned up on his elbow as his other hand half-stretches out tentatively, hovering as though he isn't sure what he can do. His eyes are wide, locked on Blaine's cock, which, despite Blaine's nerves, remains stubbornly hard after all of Kurt's teasing and their subsequent makeout session.

And he doesn't look the least bit disappointed.

He looks _amazed_.

"Can—can I—"

Blaine looks down at Kurt's hand, which is still hanging a few inches away from him, and then back up at Kurt, who looks like he's trying to look up at Blaine's face but can't seem to tear his eyes away from his crotch.

"Y-yes," Blaine says, nodding.

He gasps the moment Kurt's fingers land on the hot skin of his cock, exploring lightly up and down its length for a moment before gripping him firmly.

"Oh—oh!" Blaine stammers, his hips twitching forward into Kurt's fist. Kurt looks up at him, and their eyes meet.

"Can I suck you?"

Blaine's mouth drops open and he can only nod. The little voice in the back of his mind telling him how much he's lacking is being drowned out, and all he can think is _Oh my god Kurt's lips are going to be on my cock oh my god oh my god oh my fucking_god—

And then they are.

Kurt's mouth is hot and wet and tight and wet, his tongue slick as it caresses the underside of his cock. His lips are soft and red and Blaine can't stop staring at them _actually stretching_to take him in. He bobs his head, his hands cupping Blaine's hips, pulling Blaine toward him. Blaine's knees feel weak, and he stumbles a bit as he shuffles closer to the bed, his ankles still trapped in his pants and underwear, but Kurt is pulling him in and he can't resist it, not with more of Kurt's mouth waiting for him.

His knees hit the bed, and Kurt sinks further. Blaine watches, expecting Kurt to swallow him down easily, but he's filled with shock when Kurt _gags_.

He instinctively tries to pull back, but Kurt just grabs his hips harder and pulls, sinking back down and sucking all but the last inch of Blaine into his mouth, dipping forward and back on that part vigorously. He wraps the forefinger and thumb of his right hand around the remainder, his other fingers pressed into the hot flesh at the fold of his thigh.

"Kurt, _jesus_," Blaine groans, his head tipping back as he tries not to come. He never imagined it would feel this good, had almost convinced himself he never wanted to feel it just so he'd never have to put up with the tepid acquiescence, and god that had been the worst idea ever because Kurt's mouth is _heaven_.

Kurt pops off Blaine's cock, immediately gulping for air, a string a saliva hanging obscenely from Blaine's tip to his bottom lip. Blaine curses softly and brushes Kurt's hair back from where it's fallen on his face. Kurt wraps his whole hand around Blaine and continues jacking Blaine off, staring up at Blaine with a deceptively innocent look.

"You're going to have to tell me who told you you weren't big enough, Blaine," Kurt says, his voice husky. "I want to send them a poisoned fruit basket."

Blaine snorts out a laugh and shakes his head disbelievingly.

"I mean it," Kurt says, and he looks up at Blaine earnestly, kissing his stomach softly. "You're incredible, Blaine. I can't believe you think you look bad—you look _perfect_, just right."

"But…but I'm not—I don't look like the guys in porn—"

"Blaine, no one looks like the guys in porn," Kurt cuts in, deadpan. "I'm bigger than average and I don't even look like that. If that's what you're basing your expectations off of, no wonder you think you don't measure up."

Kurt pulls Blaine down to kneel between his legs, and kisses him sweetly on the mouth, letting Blaine taste himself briefly before pulling back, stroking Blaine's cheek.

"I have to be honest, Blaine," he says, "I thought you were actually going to be like…two inches long. _That_is what I think of when I think 'tiny penis.' Not that there's anything wrong with two inches—I would love you if you had half an inch. But…yeah. I definitely didn't see this coming."

He gestures to Blaine in all his glory, his cock standing firm from him. Blaine looks down at himself and tries to see what Kurt sees.

"You're beautiful," he hums, kissing Blaine between words, his hands softly fondling Blaine's length, as though trying to memorize it. "You're so, so sexy. God, you have no idea. The moment you dropped your pants, all I wanted to do was put my mouth on you, you looked so delicious—so I suppose I should thank you for letting me." Blaine laughs and they share a smile, Blaine's fond and amused and Kurt's just a little smug. "There is nothing wrong with you, and you're going to feel _so good_inside me. I can't wait till you stretch me open."

That's all it takes. Blaine _growls_and shoves Kurt back onto the bed, and in an instant he's on him, pressing him into the mattress and kissing him for all he's worth. Their hands grasp and grip and grope, and in a matter of minutes they're rutting against one another, and Blaine looks down at them.

Kurt is bigger than him, but it's not as big a difference as he thought. Next to each other, Kurt's only got a couple of inches, and it works out that the tip of Blaine's penis hits his frenulum when they line up, and when Kurt circles his hand around the both of them it fits so much better than when the guys in porn try it—usually then it looks awkward and uncomfortable, but Blaine almost comes when they try it. And he would be perfectly content to let it continue to the end, but Kurt had asked for something very specific.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks, kneeling back and reaching for the bottle of lube. Kurt leans up on his elbows and gives Blaine a beatific smile.

"Absolutely," he says. "In fact—"

He bites his lip, and Blaine tilts his head to catch his eye.

"What is it?"

Kurt looks up at him hopefully.

"I bought condoms, but—is it—" He takes a deep breath and then says, quick and high, "Canwenotusethem?"

"Can we…not use them?" Blaine clarifies.

Kurt nods. Blaine grins at him.

"I…don't have a problem if you don't," he agrees, and Kurt lunges up to kiss him gratefully, which turns into something more heated as Blaine flicks up the cap of the bottle.

And within minutes, he's sucking marks into Kurt's neck, his right hand moving three fingers steadily between his spread legs, twisting and scissoring open as Kurt fucks himself down, trying to draw Blaine in deeper. He's a wreck, panting and moaning and leaking precome all over his stomach. Blaine bites down a little on Kurt's collarbone.

"Now, please, please now Blaine," Kurt whimpers, gripping Blaine's biceps hard. "I need you, please, please fuck me."

Blaine nods, pulling his fingers out slowly, and Kurt squirms in anticipation as Blaine settles in and lines up, spreading the last of the excessive amount of lube he'd poured beforehand onto his dick.

_This is it,_he thinks, holding the base of his cock in one hand and spreading Kurt's cheeks with the other. It's the final moment, and Blaine's only fear now is that he'll panic and go limp if he's convinced Kurt isn't enjoying himself anymore. He can aim a finger, anyway—Blaine might still not be able to hit the right spot. He might still be—be—

_Just do it._

"Just…just let me know if it's okay," he says, and Kurt nods and agrees, a little breathless.

But he gasps for air like he's taking his first breath when Blaine pushes forward, his tip breaching the muscles that are still tight even after being stretched. And that means he's doing it, he's _stretching Kurt out,_ and Kurt is making little mewling noises with every inhale and exhale and god he's_ fucking tight._

"Please keep going, keep going," he babbles, and Blaine complies, burying himself in one long, steady push.

When he bottoms out, they stare at each other, both a little shocked that they're _finally here._ Blaine leans down and kisses his paragon of a boyfriend, his beautiful Kurt, feeling just the barest tickle of tears threatening to form. He fights it back and can't help but grin, not sure if he wants to burst into tears or laugh anyway as he looks into Kurt's eyes and _feels._

"I love you," he whispers, and Kurt whispers it back, and everything feels right.

He pulls back and then plunges in again, slowly and as smoothly as he can. Kurt's jaw drops and his breathing picks up, and Blaine continues, his pace increasing steadily. They're both moaning and pawing at each other, trying to get closer, trying to find that magical rhythm.

And then Blaine shifts, and Kurt lifts his legs up, and suddenly it's there, Kurt's legs are around Blaine's upper arms and Blaine's holding them up and leaning forward and thrusting into Kurt easily, and Kurt goes a little wild, thrashing and meeting Blaine's every drive, working his hips up and reaching to Blaine's ass to pull him in harder.

"Fuck, you feel good, I knew it," he says, his voice raising steadily, and Blaine starts tilting subtly, trying to find it, _almost there_. "God, Blaine, you feel so good, so fucking good, and—and you feel—o-oh my god, yes, _right there!_"

Blaine settles in and starts _pounding_ into Kurt, and Kurt's hand is flying over his own cock and his voice is growing louder and louder and filling Blaine's ears, and he can't help it, he's always wanted to say it and he never thought he justifiably could, but Kurt is bucking beneath him and keening desperately so he bites Kurt's ear and he growls, "That's right, _take it_."

Kurt throws his head back and nearly _screams,_ his cries rough and loud and he's coming, and Blaine keeps going, keeps pounding into him, and Kurt is almost sobbing as he comes down but Blaine's _so close can't stop can't stop—_

"God, you feel so fucking _big_—"

And that's it, Blaine comes, and he comes, and he _keeps coming_ for what feels like _hours_, hips pressed right against Kurt's ass, grinding into him as he milks every second, but then he's suddenly done, bone-tired and sated and resisting the desire to collapse onto Kurt and not move for days.

Instead, he pulls out softly, and it's not too difficult because he's gone soft and _oh no Kurt's never seen me soft it's a whole other ball game I really do look weird this way oh fuck—_

"Don't panic," Kurt whispers, and Blaine wonders if everything he thinks is always written all over his face or if Kurt just knows him better than he knows himself. He suspects it's the latter.

"Sorry," he replies, falling over to his side next to Kurt, that insecure part of him hoping Kurt won't look down—

But then Kurt's up and in the bathroom, and when he comes back out, the come wiped hastily from his body and carrying a damp washcloth, he's limping a little bit.

"Are you okay?" Blaine immediately asks, sitting up abruptly. Kurt shushes him and pushes him to lie back down, carefully smoothing the cool cloth over Blaine's groin, swiping up the drips of come that stuck to him. He doesn't look the least bit perturbed that Blaine is even smaller when he's limp, because of fucking course he is. Kurt doesn't think he's out of proportion or weird or unattractive.

"I'm fine," Kurt says, and Blaine blinks when he realizes he got lost in thought while Kurt cleaned him, "but I wasn't lying when I said you felt big. You really let me have it at the end there."

Blaine blushes and opens his mouth to apologize again, but a soft finger on his lips stalls him.

"No," Kurt interrupts, tossing the cloth aside and slipping into the bed, "don't you dare. That was the most amazing thing you could have done for me, Blaine, and I don't want any regrets. Not tonight. Not when you've made me so happy. In case you didn't notice, I liked everything you were doing. So stop being a buzzkill and come cuddle me so we can relax before I force us to shower and clean up."

Blaine laughs and obliges, gathering Kurt into his arms and tucking Kurt's head under his chin. Kurt gladly curls into him, twining their legs together and humming like he does when he's happy, and the next several minutes are spent kissing whatever's nearby, even if it's hair or an eyebrow or a sweaty bit of scruff on the underside of a chin, though while Blaine keeps his hands splayed on Kurt's back, Kurt is petting Blaine all over, spending a couple minutes trailing his fingertips around Blaine's spent cock, as though he's afraid to touch it, which is…worrying.

"You know," Kurt says suddenly, and after a long time of silence and in the middle of a nervous thought, it startles Blaine a bit. He looks down at Kurt, who is peeking up at him in a way that's almost _shy._"I think I said I was going to make us shower, right?"

"Yeah," Blaine replies, uncertainly, but then Kurt's pressing right against him and _oh fuck he's hard again—_

"I think we should do that," Kurt announces, and then he's up and out of the bed and he's tripping away, pausing at the door to the bathroom to throw a teasing look over his shoulder.

"Coming?"

Blaine grins and jumps up to follow him, because yeah, he _totally is._


End file.
